


Tulle

by okapi



Series: Clothes Make the Woman [9]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, F/F, Fem!John - Freeform, Fem!Sherlock, Genderswap, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega John, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/pseuds/okapi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In which John finds a pink dress in her wardrobe.</i> </p><p>Fem!Omegaverse Daddy kink PWP, featuring Alpha fem!Sherlock with a cock and Omega fem!John without one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tulle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [michi_thekiller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/michi_thekiller/gifts).



_Oxfam? Rubbish bin? Or keep it a little while longer?_

John held up a worn pair of trousers.

_Oxfam._

The garment joined two others in a pile on the floor.

John had gone over her list a dozen of times that day, but she did it again.

_Laundry’s done. Larder’s stocked with bottled water, juice, and picnic food. Cold meats, hard-boiled eggs, cheese, fruit, those biscuits Sherlock likes. Contraception injection administered, no adverse effects. Do Not Disturb on all the devices. Sherlock’s giving her final statement to Lestrade. Mr. Hudson’s on a fishing expedition in Scotland._

_Conclusion: Baker Street is heat-ready!_

John pushed hanger-by-hanger and stopped.

Amidst the brown, dark brown, beige-brown, and oatmeal was... _pink_.

John stared at it, like an alien life form.

_A pink dress. In my wardrobe._

John leaned far into the wardrobe and rapped the back of it with her fist.

_No. No Narnia. Not a dream dress. A real dress. A pink dress. In my wardrobe._

John held it up and cocked her head.

It was a woman’s size dress, small ribbon straps that tied in bows at the shoulders, sweetheart neckline, fitted at the waist then flared into a short skirt.

John fingered the skirt.

_Tulle._

In John’s limited knowledge of fabrics and fashion, grown women did not wear tulle unless they were employed as figure skaters or ballerinas. John was neither. She checked the tag and inhaled sharply.

_Holy Mary!_

_Knickers!_

The matching pair of pink, frilly knickers made John giggle.

John did not wear knickers. She wore underpants. Underpants of white, serviceable cotton. Underpants that won Britain the War.

_Hell, we’re already through the looking glass, might as well drink from the bottle and see what happens._

The dress fit like a glove and though well past her girlhood, John could not resist twirling and watching the fabric swish and fall. The knickers, well, John really couldn’t say because the fabric was so light and delicate that it felt as if she were wearing nothing at all beneath the dress.

John did not like mirrors; she was content to look down at herself and marvel at the transformation. She still had her long hair wrapped and capped tightly from the day’s preparation and tidying. Her charwoman hair, Sherlock called it. John had the urge to loosen it when she smelt the change in the air and watched two elegant arms wrap around her waist.

“My girl,” growled Sherlock. Her voice was already at a low, seductive rumble that made John’s knees tremble.

“My good girl.” Sherlock lips moved back and forth across John’s neck like a painter’s brush. “Do you like your gift?”

John felt lightheaded. She leaned back against Sherlock and flounced the skirt with two hands.

“It’s...pretty.”

“Of course, it’s pretty. Pretty dress for my pretty Omega. Let me see your pretty hair. None of this.” Sherlock’s hands were at John’s head, untying, unwrapping, freeing her long hair. Sherlock fingered John’s hair until it feel in loose waves to her shoulders. Then, she rubbed John’s scalp until the Omega purred.

“Such a pretty neck. Made for licking and biting. Pretty girl.” Sherlock nuzzled John’s neck; her arms returned to John’s waist. Then, Sherlock turned John abruptly.

John saw Sherlock’s eyes were already blown black with desire, and her cheeks were flush.

“May I have a dance?” she asked with a little bow.

John curtsied.

They waltzed to no music around the small bedroom. Sherlock twirled John, skirt flaring, and then twirled the desk chair out, sat down and pulled John into her lap.

“My Omega.” They kissed chastely.

“Thank you for my dress.”

“My pleasure.” Sherlock traced one finger along the neckline slowly. John loved to be teased. Loved the warm ache that Sherlock’s playful touch kindled. She watched Sherlock’s finger with rapt attention.

Sherlock’s finger pulled the fabric until a nipple was exposed.

“A pretty pink bud. To match your dress. I bet it’s sweet. As sweet as it is pretty.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can’t. I’ll have to taste it.” Sherlock flicked John’s nipple with her tongue. John gave a soft cry.

“So sweet. My sweet Omega. More?”

“More!” Sherlock pulled the neckline further and latched onto John’s nipple. The wet heat left John trembling.

“Is the other side as sweet?” John panted. Sherlock chuckled, “Naughty girl. Let’s see.” Sherlock returned to her teasing, the light tracing of John’s curves until John huffed in frustration.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please taste my pretty pink bud!”

Sherlock groaned, yanked the fabric, and sucked hard.

“ _Oh, God!_ ”

“So pretty, so sweet!” Sherlock mumbled. “I want to see them both.” John slowly untied the straps and let the bodice fall.

“Mmm,” said Sherlock, cupping one then the other, and then kneading both. “I think this one is sweeter.” She licked one. “No this one.” She licked the other. “I’m not sure.” She sucked and licked and bit each side until John was making wanton little gasps. John took her hair and piled it on her head. She arched her back, and Sherlock groaned. Then, Sherlock raised and lowered her knees, bouncing John, steadying the Omega by the waist with one arm.

“Look at those little buds!”

John picked at the skirt as she bounced. “This is fun,” she said.

“Of course, it’s fun. A pretty Omega, bouncing on her Alpha’s lap. What could be more fun?” Sherlock stopped. John’s neck and cleavage already shined with perspiration. Sherlock lapped up the salty moisture.

They looked deep into each others’ eyes. John wrapped her arms around Sherlock’s neck and nuzzled against her jaw.

Then, the penny dropped.

“Daddy,” she whispered into Sherlock’s ear.

“Oh!” Sherlock’s cry was almost pained. She held John close and kissed her mouth savagely, plundering it with her tongue. She tilted John’s head back and slotted their mouths, deepening and prolonging the kiss until John was breathless.

“My princess, my jewel, my angel, my treasure, my sweet Omega. Bouncing on her Alpha Daddy’s lap.”

“It’s fun,” whispered John as Sherlock bounced her anew.

“It’s fun up here,” said Sherlock, picking at the layers of tulle bunched around them and planting a quick peck on each pebbled bud. “And it’s fun under here too.” Sherlock slid her hands up John’s thighs, under her knickers, and gripped her bottom.

“Are you having fun, Daddy?”

Sherlock stopped and drew John’s hand to the damp spot in the front of her trousers. Her hard cock pulsed against John’s touch.

“So much fun. My girl makes her Daddy feel so good. Wanna make Daddy feel even better?”

“Yes!”

“Rub your sweet little bottom against Daddy’s cock.”

John turned in Sherlock’s lap and pulled the back of her knickers down. John leaned forward and ground her rear into Sherlock’s crotch. John felt the tulle bunch against her lower back. She looked back to see Sherlock pushing the tulle out of the way so she could watch John’s movements. Then, she squeezed John’s buttocks.

“So good, so good, my princess. Can you feel how hard Daddy is?”

“Take your cock out, Daddy, so I can feel it.”

“Later, princess, or this will be over before we start.” She pulled John’s knickers up and turned her around to face her again. “What did you do today?” Sherlock flicked John’s nipple with one finger.

“I got ready for you. I missed you so much. I got so...wet.”

“Did you touch yourself, princess?”

John shook her head. “But I was wet. As wet as I am now.” Sherlock cupped the sodden front of John’s knickers. Then, she lifted the fabric.

“Those are pretty little knickers. Show me. Show your Alpha Daddy.”

John moved away from Sherlock and held up the skirt. The knickers were now dark pink with moisture.

“So pretty, so sweet. Pull them down a little and let me see more of you. Good girl.” John pulled the knickers down so they spanned the very tops of her thighs. Sherlock shucked off her black suit jacket and fell to her knees. She crawled towards John on all fours. Then, she rose up and opened her.

“Another pretty pink bud. Even sweeter than the other two. Let me taste.”

“Please, Daddy! OH!” Sherlock mouth covered John’s clit and rested there. Then her tongue began to move very slowly, teasing John to mindless babbling.

“Your girl, your girl, my Alpha Daddy, licking my buds, tasting me, OH! OH! OH!” Sherlock caught her as her knees gave way.

They were a tangled mess of limbs and tulle on the floor. Sherlock slipped the knickers off John’s legs.

“Was that good?” asked Sherlock.

“So good. It’s your turn, Daddy. Let your angel make you feel good.” John rubbed Sherlock’s crotch, which by now was as sodden as John’s knickers. Sherlock made to undo her belt, but John batted her hands away.

“Let me.” She opened Sherlock’s belt and trousers and without preamble, sank her mouth around Sherlock’s erect cock.

“Fuck!”

“Daddy,” giggled John. “You said a bad word.”

“It’s just my Omega makes me feel so good. Suck me, precious. Suck Daddy’s hard cock.”

John sucked.

“Take a little bit more.” John sank down lower. “That’s a girl. Love to watch my sweet Omega, my jewel, sucking her Daddy’s cock.” Sherlock laid a light hand on John’s head. “Take a little bit more. You can do it. Right there, right there.” John hummed around Sherlock’s cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Sherlock tensed and pushed John away. The Omega retreated back on her knees.

“Did I do something wrong, Daddy?” She pouted and fingered the tulle. Sherlock rushed to her and held her head in her hands.

“No, no, no, sweetheart. You’re perfect, absolutely perfect. It’s just that Daddy wants to come in your tight little pussy, not your mouth.”

“Oh, _Daddy_.”

Then all clothing was abandoned and John was on bed, arse in the air, inching forward with every thrust of Sherlock’s cock.

“Your delicious—open, warm, soft, hungry—pussy. Taking Daddy’s cock, making Daddy feel so good. Good, good girl.” Sherlock massaged John’s lower back as she rocked them together.

And then, as if something tightly sealed had broken, the room flooded with pheromones.

“SHERLOCK!”

“JOHN!”

John felt the Alpha cock swell and pump hot streams deep inside her. Sherlock covered John’s sweat-slick body with her own and rolled them on their sides together. She licked at the bond-mark on John’s neck and let out a low growl.

 

 

Some minutes later, John felt the knot loosen and her mind-fog clear slightly. She heard Sherlock’s voice in her ear.

“You said...something...during the last heat. I...wanted to hear it again.” John smiled.

“I honestly don’t remember, Sherlock. The pheromones tend to clean the slate at the end.”

Sherlock reached over John to the floor and picked the dress up by one layer of tulle. She asked, “Oxfam? Rubbish bin? Or...?”

John grabbed it from her hand and let it fall to the floor. “Keep it for a little while longer.”

John felt the smile against her back.


End file.
